


True Love's Sucker Punch

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Series: The Ward Series [3]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Crack, Disney References(?), Gen, Humor, Len's a Flash Nerd, M/M, Magic, Mick wants to Bash his Head Against A Wall, Sleeping Curse, Warlocks, but we already knew that, idk man they just sorta snuck in there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:18:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7788184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's more than one way to break curses, even if swooning goody-goodies refuse to acknowledge it. Warlock Mick could do without what comes next: namely, a lightning-fast problem that Leonard Snart can't stop chasing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True Love's Sucker Punch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prouvairablehulk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvairablehulk/gifts).



> Sorry this took so long, baby cakes. You deserve far better timing on your gifts.
> 
> I kinda do a different twist on magic in this one. Let me know what you think!

Plenty of legends behind this citadel. People say it used to shine so bright, it was like the sun had hit the Earth, leaving a blazing mark on their residents. Those guys protected anyone and everyone who so much as stubbed their toe, and they could do it faster than most humans could blink.

Speedsters, they were called. Len's seen plenty of paintings about them—stolen quite a few of those too. He carried a childhood obsession with them into his adult years. Mick's not ashamed to say he stole a pair of their fetish convention version of feetie pajamas ("super suit, Mick") for a week of blow jobs.

Now that they've finally managed to work their powers up to the task of breaking into the Speedster Citadel's wards, Mick's day-dreaming about the sex. Maybe he'll get to see Lenny squeeze his ass into that tight spandex ("tripolymer, Mick") like he's always wanted.

He doesn't expect to lean against the wall of the Beauty and the Beast library and fall into the fucking Abyss.

Or for Snart to walk right over him, saying, "Well done, Mick. You found it."

Okay, maybe he could predict the second part. Nobody said their relationship was exactly wholesome. But the real kicker is when Mick gropes for a hand hold and ends up groping somebody's crotch instead.

"Len?" he asks, just to be sure.

"What?" yep, too far away.

The guy's not reacting, though. Maybe it's a corpse? Nah, too warm for death. There's some sense of magic here too, now that Mick's thinking about it—the kind that's different from the old power still crackling in the marble. Somewhat like death, but...

Mick flicks on his lighter.

"Mick?" Len calls, annoyed at being ignored. "What is it?"

"We got a Sleepin' Beauty over here." What's with him and thinkin' about Disney today? Damn it, Shawna.

When Len gazes upon the twink, Mick's pretty sure his partner gets a nerd boner from all the stars in his eyes. Although to everyone else, he supposes, Cold's expression remains calm as ever. But Mick knows Len's boners, and this? This is one of 'em.

"The Flash," Len drawls, hovering a hand over the kid's hair. That's his equivalent of smacking the back of his hand to his forehead and fainting dead away.

For his part, Mick has a mind to pinch the bridge of his nose, grab the nearest shiny thing, and walk out. The Flash, last known speedster, MIA for forever and a half, and Len's fondest wet dream since Han Solo. What are the fucking odds they find him, outta all the other speedsters, under a sleeping curse?

Len looks this close to draping himself over the Flash like a new piece of furniture and going for a cat nuzzle. He's slurred out so many fantasized fights between him and the famous "Scarlet Speedster" while drunk that Mick would definitely expect it. Nerdy fuck.

"Want me to wake 'im up?" he asks, even though it physically pains him to do so.

But, more sex. Len's smirk promises that much, at least.

"Be my guest," the bastard replies, as if it's all Mick's idea and he's not practically salivating at the chance to talk to/fight with his childhood hero.

Mick eyes the gold chalice engraved with lightning strikes. Eyes Len's face.

Get rich...or get laid by Leonard Snart. Get rich...or get laid by Leonard Snart.

Damn it.

Mick rolls his shoulders, a trick he learned on summoning his magic. Where Len's based in ice, he's based in fire. Not just the element, but what it represents: life, unpredictability, invention, and freedom, among other things. It's one of the most chaotic forms of magic, and he's proud to say he's one of the only solo adepts in it; usually it takes at least two warlocks to get a handle on it—another reason why people think sleeping curses are so difficult to break.

You don't always need a kiss, y'know; magic can counter magic just fine. Since Mick stored his magic in his muscles rather than his brain like Len, he's starting off with an advantage over the pale skinny bitch in front of him. Add his boiling glee over getting to hit Len's hero before Len, and you've got flaming cascades of magic swirling ready at his fingertips.

And so, instead of a kiss, Mick Rory shouts,"Wakey-wakey!" and gives the victim a roundhouse to the face.

The Flash is sent rolling across the chamber, away from the scarlet cushions of his pedestal. He groans when his fall's interrupted by an indifferent pillar.

Yet what faces Snart's delighted "Hell _o_ , Flash" is a happy puppy smile.

In that moment, of three things Mick was absolutely positive: first, Len was gonna fuck him. Second, there was a part of him—a part he had come to rely on—that told him he had just unleashed a hero upon the world. And third, he was unconditionally, undoubtedly, most definitely, completely, irrevocably regretting his choices.

 

Fighting The Flash is like watching Len masturbate: at first, Mick enjoys the show, but soon enough he wants to stop watching. Only this is  _fucking annoying_.

Len's always had a no-kill principle on jobs, but now he's got  _rules_ about it because, didn't he tell Mick, The Flash made a deal with him!  _And_ he knows The Flash's secret identity! What a happy Snowflake is he!

Mick is going to strangle the kid. Or Len. Or both. Both is good.

Or maybe he'll just strangle  _himself_ , because every single fucking time he or any of the Rogues so much as look at somethin' funny, the Flash seems to know about it. He sprints to the scene without even breaking a sweat and puts a stop to it. But does Len get annoyed? No. He acts like he is, sure, but really he's excited to face a new challenge—a challenge that apparently never gets old because he's got a nerd-on for Barry fuckin' Allen.

The sex is phenomenal, but Mick—and he never thought he'd say this—would rather stop the Flash. It's like a reversal of Len's obsession: where his partner wants to keep chasing and chasing, Mick wants to stop that fucker in his tracks and break his legs in half.

Not that it'd last long, since Allen's apparently got a  _healing factor_ like fucking Superman.

Honestly, he'd make a pretty good thi—

Len raises an eyebrow over his magazine. "Mick?"

Mick, who's stopped in his tracks on his way to a stash of matches, grins.

 

"Glad you came, Flash."

Flash's eyes narrow on Mick as the criminal leans against the warehouse. They're at the docks, a place Len wouldn't think to look first, since Mick can't stand swimming and always complained whenever they visited for a job. That gives them about an hour and a half. Len's not the only one who can make plans, y'know.

"What do you want, Heat Wave?"

And damn can he cut a good deal.

Mick pushes off the wall. "I got a proposition for you."

Lightning sparks in Flash's eyes. Gotta admit, it's pretty cool-lookin'. "I don't make deals with criminals."

"Oo, already a liar." This'll be  _easy_. "Tell me Flash, why d'you fight?"

Allen obviously wasn't expecting such a deep question from someone like Mick. Fucker. "I fight for the citizens—"

"No," Mick says, "what's the real reason? Gotta be somethin' more personal than that."

Flash scowls at him. "Well what do you  _steal_ for?"

Redirecting already. Why didn't Mick do this sooner? "I steal for me, for fun, and for Snart. For the Rogues. So?"

Silence.

Mick smirks. "You don't got a clue, do you?" Allen opens his mouth—"Face it, kid, your reasons died a long time ago. You're just doin' this for the sake of it."

Flash snaps, "I fight because it's right!"

"Oh, what's  _right_ , huh?"

Allen's chin lifts in defiance. "Yes."

Mick snorts, "Yeah, 'cause that's a thing. Principles are nice, kid, but they don't mean shit if you don't believe in them anymore. Don't start," he growls when Flash opens his mouth, "I know the only enjoyment you get now is from Lenny's side of your deal. You got a mask, but I know the look."

"...what do you want?" the so-called hero gripes.

Mick smirks. "I want you to join our side."

"Become a  _criminal_?"

"You don't gotta steal or nothin' if you don't wanna. You could even pull some Robin Hood shit with your cut, I don't care. Peek doesn't do nothin' but patch us up or get us out. We're not some citadel, but we got everything else."

Flash takes a measured step back. "Why?"

Mick shrugs. "You'd make a good thief with your powers and you make Snart happy." Flash blinks at that. "We'll be takin' a painting next week from Central Art. I'll hear from you then. You at least owe me an answer after I took the trouble of wakin' your ass up."

When he turns to leave, Flash doesn't stop him.

 

"Mick."

Mick doesn't bother hiding his grin.

Len waves the red sticky note he plucked off their intended score's gilt frame. The score that just so happened to land inexplicably in their main hideout.

 _Call me! :D_ it says, along with a number and a lightning bolt symbol.

"What did you do?" Len asks.

Mick tugs him close. When Len allows it, he leans closer and says, "I got you a present, Lenny."

Len stares him down. "You got me  _The Flash_."

"Mhm."

"Just so you could get sex?"

"Yeah."

After a moment, Len turns his eyes forward and drawls, "Makes me wonder what you'd do for me. Almost has me  _quivering_ in antici..."

A bolt of lightning careens into the room.

"...pation."

Allen grins his irksome sunshine grin. "Hey, guys!"

Mick can practically see Len's tail wagging. " _Hello_ , Barry."

"You guys finally came back! I was waiting!"

"We know," the criminals reply in easy tandem.

Len adds, "For all your speed, Flash, you're terrible at hiding."

"And keepin' to yourself," Mick finishes.

"But don't worry. There's plenty of time to fix you up." Len pulls back Barry's cowl in one swift movement. The hero blinks at him.

Or, Mick grins,  _former_ hero.

Cold gestures to the Rogues' Den and says, "Make yourself at home."

**Author's Note:**

> I know the ending's rushed, I'm sorry D:
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
